School days
by Dreamer-in-the-dark
Summary: AU - join eight year old Willow, Xander and the rest as they experience the traumas and events that go on in a year 4 primary school class...
1. Maths

**A/N: I got stuck with _Fledgling_ so I wrote this to take a break. It's an AU type thing set in an English primary school. (Because I'm English, and I don't know how the schools work in America) They're all about eight or nine years old (year 4) unless I specify individually that they're not. I actually like this, I might carry it on. Note to self: I should stop starting stories cos then I have to continue them all at the same time... but I actually have loads of ideas that I wanna make into fics and I don't want to forget them before I write them. And that made no sense at all. Apologies, now here's the fic:**

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"Don't. Touch. My stuff."

Cordelia Chase's voice rang across the playground. Kids turned to witness the scene that was taking place.

Willow Rosenburg, a shy red head, was on the verge of tears and Cordelia snatched the Barbie away and stormed off. Everyone watched, frozen in silence as Willow's lip quivered and she sat on the wall with her knees drawn up.

"What are you all looking at!" Cordelia snapped at Jonathon and Andrew, and Warren, three little five year olds who were staring with their mouths open. They quickly shut them and continued with their game of power rangers.

Cordelia ruled the school. Although there were a full two years above her, she was still the queen of the playground. Older kids and younger kids watched in awe when Cordelia walked past.

Harmony, a girl with long blonde hair in pink ribbons ran up to Cordy with another Barbie clutched in her hand. "Nice one Cord!" She examined the Barbie in Cordelia's hand. "Hey, lets plait their hair!" she said excitedly.

Cordelia gave her a look. "Uh, no. Harmony, plaits are so out. They need ribbons." She pointed at her own hair, in which two sapphire ribbons were tied perfectly in place.

"Oh," said Harmony brightly. "Where are we going to find ribbons?"

Cordelia pointed to a year two girl who also had ribbons in her hair.

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Mrs Hutton, the year four teacher, stood at the front of the class and addressed them the way she always did, with a huge smile and a soft voice.

"A new girl is coming tomorrow and I want you all to be nice to her. Her name's Buffy-" Cordelia snorted from the back row, "-and she's just moved here. So be nice, please." Mrs Hutton looked at Cordelia with the last sentence.

Willow, in the front, listened with interest. Her best friend Tara was playing with the friendship bracelet Willow had got her for Christmas. It was pink and black with little silver hearts. Willow had one too, although Willow's was green and black. The two of them were shy, and didn't talk much to anyone else. All the staff at school were used to seeing Willow and Tara, always together. They were perhaps the only pair of children in the school who hadn't fallen out with each other.

A piece of rubber hit Tara in the head and she turned around. Xander Harris mouthed, 'Sorry' at her and she turned back, muttering to Willow.

"Boys are so stupid. I wish our school was an only-girls school."

Willow smiled. "Me too!"

"Faith was talking about kissing Gunn earlier. How gross is that?!" Tara and Willow both giggled. Faith was Tara's cousin and went to the high school across town. Gunn was her boyfriend. "Hey I'm sorry about your Barbie by the way. Cordelia's really mean."

Willow smiled. "It's ok. I think I'm growing out of them anyway. Shame Cordy's not!"

They were set some maths work to do and within ten minutes, William, or Spike, as everyone called him, had been called to the front to hand over his calculator.

"Where did you get this from William?" Mrs Hutton asked.

"Home."

"But we have calculators here if you need one, you shouldn't bring one from home." She sighed. "But if you want, you can keep it, just don't use it now. This work is to be done without a calculator."

Spike took the calculator back from her and sat back down.

"William, don't think that I can't tell you're using it under the desk," Mrs Hutton said tiredly a couple of minutes later, and Spike put it in his bag guiltily.

"Damn," said his best friend Liam, "I needed you to work out 7 x 9."

"It's sixty three," Xander said across the table.

"How d'ya know that?!" Liam said in surprise.

"Well we're supposed to be working it out by them times table things, but there's another way for nines, look," Xander held up ten fingers in front of him. "If you want seven, you count across from the left on your fingers then put the seven one down, see? Then the number of fingers on that side is the first number and the ones on the other side is the second number."

Liam and Spike watched in amazement. "Wow! Does that really work?" Xander nodded. "Cool!"

Liam scribbled something down on his work then looked up. "Does it work with sevens as well? The next one is 5 x 7."

Xander shrugged. "Dunno. Lets see..." he held up his fingers and did a quick count, putting the fifth finger down. "I got 45."

Liam and Spike both wrote down 45 as their answer for 5 x 7, 27 as their answer for 3 x 8, and 54 as their answer for 6 x 6. When they got to the end of the sheet, Spike threw a pencil at Willow's head. She turned round with a frown.

"Willow, can you check if those are right for us?" Liam asked, handing her his sheet. She looked at it then laughed.

"I don't know what you've done Lee, but it's all wrong except for 7 x 9."

Liam scowled and snatched his sheet back. "Xander! You said it worked for other numbers too!"

"I never! I said I didn't know!"

"What would work?" Tara asked, turning round as well.

"This thing Xander's got to do the nine times table with your fingers," Spike answered, also scowling. "Only it doesn't work with other numbers."

Willow frowned. "What?" The three boys showed her and she rolled her eyes.

"Of course it doesn't work, stupid!" All three of them scowled once more. "It only works with nine because that's like a default number."

"A what?" Spike asked blankly, and Willow sighed.

"Never mind. Just trust me, it only works with nine."

She turned back round and whispered something to Tara which made her giggle.

Liam looked at Spike and Xander. "What do we do now?"

Xander frowned then turned round to talk to Doyle who was on the other table behind him.

"Oi, Doyle, get Oz." Doyle obediently prodded Oz across the table who looked up. "Give us your sheet Oz, we need to copy." Oz frowned and shook his head.

"Work it out yourself."

Spike frowned then spoke to Xander. "Tell him if he doesn't give us the sheet I'll set Ripper on him."

"Spike says if you don't give us the sheet he'll set Ripper on you," Xander repeated. Oz toyed with the decision then handed over the sheet reluctantly. Spike grinned. The threat of his older brother never failed. He wasn't nicknamed 'Ripper' for no reason.

Liam greedily copied down the answers first, snatching the paper out of Xander's hand while Oz watched from the other table, fiddling with his pen.

"Liam, William, Alexander, Daniel, Francis, Willow and Tara, I have been watching you for the past fifteen minutes and I know exactly what's going on and who's done what." Mrs Hutton's voice rang out, slightly harsher than normal. "Everyone else can have a star if you come to me after class. Alex, William and Liam I will talk to you after the lesson."

The three boys looked at each other guiltily. "Shame Wes isn't here," Spike commented, looking at the empty chair at their table where Wesley usually sat. "He'd get us out of it somehow."

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It was a very disgruntled Xander that made his way home that day. He'd been set extra maths homework. It was ok for Spike, he had his stupid calculator. But Xander's dad was a junkie and they didn't have anything particularly useful in the house.

Xander hated his home. It always stunk of beer and fags and some drug that he didn't want to know about. There wasn't even a proper carpet on the floor in the hall, just stone cement stuff. He was only eight, and yet he had his own key to get into the house because his dad was usually out. The woman next door was supposed to keep an eye on him, which she did, to be fair, but she didn't stay in the house for long. Xander guessed she didn't like the smell.

He let himself in and sighed visibly, picking up a beer can from the floor and chucking it in the black bin liner that served as a bin. He went through to the kitchen and groaned. There was some sticky stuff (probably more beer) all over the surfaces and dripping down the cupboard doors.

As Xander got a cloth and started to clean it off, he felt tears in the back of his eyes and blinked furiously. He missed his mum. She'd died four years ago, of cancer, and Xander's memory of her was pretty vague. He had a picture, in his room, but that didn't make her alive again, and it was he, Xander, who had to put up with his drunken father who, if he wasn't passed out on the sofa with a can, was out dealing drugs to kids. What would happen to Xander if he got caught? Xander wasn't an idiot, he knew drugs were illegal. So would his dad go to prison if he was caught? And what about him? He didn't have any other relatives that he knew of, and he didn't want to go into a care home like Doyle or get adopted like Liam.

He sighed again and curled up on the sofa with his maths book and a pen.

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Willow heard the knock on her front door and her dad answer it. There was a brief conversation that she didn't catch and then, "Willow! It's Xander, I'll send him up!" Willow groaned and hid her face in the pillow as Xander knocked on her door.

"Come in," she sighed through the pillow, and the boy came in with a grin. Xander came round for homework help a lot. He only lived round the corner, on the estate, and she knew he didn't like spending time at home.

"Hi Willow I need your help. See, Mrs Hutton set me extra homework because of the thing today at school and I can't do it, it's too hard."

"Have you even tried?"

Xander shook his head cheerfully and Willow took the maths book from him and looked at it for a couple of seconds. Suddenly Xander let out a fart and burst into giggles.

"Xander! I'm not going to help you if you're gonna be stupid. You've made my room stink now, go away!" Willow was actually cross and Xander got control of himself.

"I'm sorry Willow, please just help me, please?"

"Why?"

"Because I really need your help. I'll give you my Rolos tomorrow at school?" Willow hesitated. She loved Rolos. "For the rest of the week?" Xander prodded, and Willow gave in.

"Fine, give it here." She had the work done in less than five minutes and Xander brightened when she handed it back.

"Thanks Willow!"

"No problem," she muttered to herself as he left the house.


	2. Football

Spike yawned and ruffled his dog's hair. Dalton gave a goofy grin and licked his hand as Spike climbed out of bed with another yawn.

"Oi! Spike you gotta go to school!" Ripper shouted up from downstairs.

Spike appeared at the bottom of the stairs in his pyjamas and looked at the clock, frowning to himself and trying to work out the time. The clock didn't help as it was one of the ones with roman numerals instead of numbers.

"It's quarter to eight," Ripper supplied from his position in the hallway.

Spike shrugged and gave up looking at the clock. "Why are you up so early?"

Ripper grinned slyly. "None of your business," meaning he wasn't going to school today, Spike knew. Compared to Ripper, Spike was a model student, which was why his parents spoilt him so much. Spike was the favourite son and he and Ripper both knew it.

"Dad's taking you to school today." Ripper motioned up the stairs with a nod of his head. "If he asks, I've already gone ok?" He slipped out the front door with a bag that Spike was pretty sure didn't contain school books.

Spike made himself some breakfast and planned out in his head the football team for break time. Their school was so useless that there was only one proper football pitch and the classes had to pre-book it for use during lunch time. Because of his exceptional skill, Spike had been nominated as the class captain and therefore he was the one that booked the pitch. It was all very professional really. You had to go to the headteacher and get her to put the class down for that day. Today was Tuesday which was yr4's normal footie day. Sometimes they played Fridays too but there was always a squabble over Fridays.

The class was split in two, (not including the girls, naturally) and made up two fair teams. Spike was normally captain of one team and Liam the other. If they played on the same team they always fought over the striker position.

"Hey kid, you ready to go?" Spike's dad came energetically into the kitchen and grinned at him. Spike grinned back, sweeping his blonde curls out of his face. "We should really get that sorted out, you need a hair cut."

Spike frowned. "I don't want a hair cut. Liam's hair is all floppy and cool."

"Liam's hair is straight and so it doesn't get all knotty when it's long," his dad replied, putting Spike's empty bowl of cereal in the sink. "Ok?"

"Yeah." Spike picked up his bag and followed his dad out into the car. Most people in his class lived within walking distance of the school (i.e., in the town) but Spike's family lived in the village just outside the main town, which meant he had to go in the car to school.

Hensford wasn't a large town, but it had a primary school – Spike's school – ranging from reception to year six, as well as both an infant school and a separate junior school. This meant that all the schools were pretty small and had only one class per year. There were also two high schools, Hensford Grammar and Hensford High. Spike thought they could at least have come up with some more original names than that.

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Buffy stood in front of her new class with a worried smile on her face. She didn't know anyone, and there were just so many faces looking at her. There were two girls at the back smirking and whispering, and Buffy deliberately didn't look in their direction again.

Mrs Hutton sat her next to a girl called Willow with red hair, who smiled at her. Buffy smiled back nervously. Willow seemed nice, but she didn't seem very sporty, which was the only thing Buffy was good at.

She got on with the work without saying anything. When it finally got to break time, the class broke up into their separate groups, with the boys all going off to play football. Buffy watched as the teams were sorted out and the started the match. She was itching to join in, but none of the boys even gave her a second glance. The boy with curly hair was good, so was his friend on the other team. There was one boy playing in defence on Curly's team who was good as well, and a much smaller boy who seemed to be pretty good although he wasn't playing in any particular position. But all the rest were rubbish. Buffy watched them for the full fifteen minutes that made up their break, then approached Curly-hair once the bell had gone.

"Hi. I'm Buffy, what's your name."

"Spike."

"Right. Um... I'm new." Buffy felt incredibly stupid. "So, do you like, play at lunch time too?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Can I play?"

Spike laughed then realised she was serious. "What you mean, join in?"

"Yeah." Buffy's face was flaming red.

"But you're a girl!"

"So?" she said hotly, "I can play football better than that lot!"

Spike looked at her sceptically. "All right. You can play at lunch and we'll see how good you are." He walked off to join Liam.

"Hey Lee, guess what?" He grinned. "That new girl wants to play footie with us."

Liam snorted. "She's going on your team then mate, we don't want her!"

"Uh, I sort out teams and I say she's on your side."

"She might be good," Doyle pointed out, and Spike looked at him.

"You're not serious?"

Doyle grinned. "You never know, she could be!"

Liam smirked, watching Buffy as she went through the doors into the classroom. "No way, she's too little."

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"Where did you learn to play like that?"

"But you're a girl!"

"She's better than me man!"

"That's impossible!"

"Girls can't play football!"

The only subject of discussion for the whole afternoon was Buffy's football skills. Spike and Liam sulked their way through the afternoon class and Buffy approached Spike as he waited for his mum or dad outside the school entrance.

"Hi."

Spike scowled. "What do you want?"

"To say hi?" Buffy looked a little hurt. Spike didn't understand this girl. Before she came it had all been simple. Boys. Girls. Don't mix. Let the girls be friends with the girls and the boys with the boys. Simple. Now Buffy was here and she was playing football? What was wrong with the world?

"Hi then," Spike said without feeling.

"What are you waiting here for then?" Buffy asked trying to be friendly.

"Waiting for my parents. One of them is supposed to pick me up."

"Where do you live?"

"Little Trippington."

"Me too!"

Spike glanced at her. All his friends lived in Hensford. He'd always wanted someone from his class to live in Little Trippington, although in his fantasies it had been Liam or one of the other boys that he could play footie with in the street. But then, he could play footie with Buffy too, judging by what he'd seen at lunch time. "What road?" he asked.

"The high street, number five."

Just round the corner from me then, Spike thought. His street, Waffles Avenue, joined onto the high street. Not that it was much of a high street. A post office, an off-licence and a souvenir shop for the non-existent tourists. The buses into Hensford came once an hour from nine till seven and then they stopped. Ripper often said it was like living in the Sahara, it was so remote. It would be nice to have someone living nearby, even if it was a girl. At least she was a girl who could play football.

**Sorry this chapter's been mostly Spike centred... Next chapter I'll centre it around someone else. And sorry about the names too... 'Waffles Avenue'? Dunno where I got that from! Keep reviewing... don't stop now! Tell you what - if you review I'll try and make the next chapter longer!**


	3. Geordie

**Ok just to clear some stuff up for you all! Yes, I'm setting it all in England because it's just easier for me, and the football I'm talking about is soccer, yeah. And yup, we got some new people coming in this chapter! Thanks for the reviews they were GREAT!

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Liam threw his bag onto the table and grinned at his little sister Drusilla. She beamed up at him, always adoring her big brother.

"Guess what Dru?" Liam asked her as he helped himself to some food from the fridge. "There's a new girl at school who can play football!"

Dru hid behind her doll and giggled. She was only two so she didn't really understand everything he was saying, but that didn't stop Liam talking to her.

"Her name's Buffy, it's a real weird name." He paused. "Course, not as weird as Drusilla."

Dru beamed, recognising her own name, and blurted loudly, "Liam!"

He picked her up with a smile. "Yeah! I'm Liam and you're Drusilla!"

"Liam Drus'la!" she shouted again. Liam yawned loudly and made Dru giggle once more. He carried her into the front room where he dropped her on the sofa and switched on the tv, lying on the floor in front of it.

"Lee, honey, don't sit so close, you'll get square eyes," his mum, Kathy, said as she walked past into the kitchen.

Liam frowned. He'd never really understood how you could get square eyes. And anyway, how did they know you got square eyes from the tv? It's not like there were people walking around with square eyes everywhere. Finally he decided it was just something adults made up, but moved away anyway, just in case. Dru came and curled in his lap and he stroked her dark hair gently. Technically she wasn't really his sister. Both of them had been adopted, because Kathy was infertile and couldn't have children. Liam's birth parents had been killed when he was Dru's age, so he couldn't remember them, and Drusilla's mum was only about fifteen, so she couldn't and didn't want to raise a kid.

Kathy poked her head round the door once more. "Lee? Glory next door is bringing Fred round and Ripper's coming over to baby-sit you guys."

Liam groaned. Ripper was ok, but Fred was just really annoying. "But she doesn't wanna do anything, mum! She just sits there and smiles at anything you say! Plus she talks weird."

Kathy laughed. "Fred's lovely! And what makes you think she talks weird?"

"She says her words differently, like she's foreign or something."

Again, Kathy laughed. "She's from Newcastle, Lee, she's got a Geordie accent."

"A what?"

"An accent." Kathy rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen. "Anyway, she's coming round later, so be nice. Don't worry, she'll only be here for a couple of hours. Glory and I are going for a girlie evening at the spa. Fred's Dad'll come to collect her before nine, and I'll be back by ten at the latest," she called.

"Where's Dad?"

"Staying in London for the night. He'll be back tomorrow."

Liam watched the tv for a while before he went into the kitchen to have some dinner. "If Ripper's coming, can Spike sleep over?"

Kathy frowned. "Hmm… You'll keep each other awake all night Liam. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Aw! Mum!"

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Doyle toyed with the food on his plate. Fish fingers, again. Doyle hated fish fingers. There were seven other kids living in the home with him, and all of them loved fish fingers. Most of them were younger than him, although Jenny was a year older and Kate and Riley were the same age. Jenny, Riley and Kate, like most of the kids at the home, went to the junior school in Hensford, St Helen's, but by the time his parents messed up and social services took him away, he'd already been enrolled at Hensford primary, which was where he stayed.

"Good day Francis?" Riley sneered at him and Doyle ignored him. "Oi! Francis, I'm talking to you, _Francis_!"

"It's Doyle!" He snapped, irritated, across the table.

"_Francis_ Doyle, can't forget that bit can we?" Riley said, to plenty of laughs from the younger kids. Riley was only two months older than Doyle, but he was a lot bigger and stronger.

"Leave him alone!" Jenny said, and Riley rolled his eyes, which made them laugh some more.

"Shut up, geek," Riley said, and Doyle, who had a minor crush on the older girl scraped his chair back and stood up.

"You shut up, okay?"

Riley laughed. "Ooh, you gonna hit me Francis?" Everyone laughed again, and Doyle felt his temper boiling. He picked up his fork and hurled it across the table. It struck Riley in the chin and scraped three parallel lines across his jaw, two of which started to bleed. Riley stopped laughing and stared at Doyle in disbelief. The he got up and moved round the table and punched Doyle in the face. Doyle was about to hit him back when a firm hand seized his shoulder and lead him away. He was in trouble now. Damn.

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Fred was small and quiet and Liam stared at her while their mums had a cup of coffee waiting for Ripper to arrive. Eventually he spoke to her.

"My mum said you've got a Georgie accent. Who's Georgie?"

Fred laughed. "You've got an accent too, you know."

"Have not."

"You have."

Liam turned his back on her with a scowl and switched on the TV. He watched it for a while, flicking through the channels, when Fred spoke again.

"Can we play a game?"

"No."

"Please? What about your PlayStation."

Liam paused. Generally speaking, girls aren't any good on the PS2, but Buffy had surprised them all at school today so maybe… "Alright. Can you play?"

Fred grinned. "Naturally. What've you got?"

He went through his games, trying to be nice and pick one that wasn't too boyish. "Rayman M? It's a few years old but it's an easy enough racing game."

Fred shrugged. "Yeah." She picked it up pretty quickly and Liam found he was actually having a lot of fun. Even when Ripper arrived, he continued playing until Fred had enough. She disappeared upstairs somewhere and Liam spun round to face Ripper.

"What do you think of her?"

Ripper shrugged. "Alright. From Newcastle right?"

"I think so. She's a Georgie."

Ripper laughed but didn't correct him. "Spike's got a girlfriend," he grinned. "You know who she is?"

Liam's eyes bulged. After the pact the two of them made that they would never ever have a girlfriend. "Who?!"

"Some girl that's just moved to our village. Buffy someone. He's been out with her since they got back from school. He says they're playing football!" Ripper laughed again as if the very idea were stupid.

Liam paused, wondering weather to let Ripper know that Buffy did actually play football. He decided he couldn't be bothered. "What's on the tv?"

Ripper turned it on and Little Britain filled the screen. They watched for a while although Liam didn't understand some of the things that Ripper found funny. When it came to the bit with the Prime minister and the American President, Liam decided then and there that he wanted to be the Prime minister. He told Ripper this, and yet again, Ripper laughed.

"No Lee, you have to be rich and smart to be the Prime minister. You need parents with enough money to send you to a posh private school."

Liam had heard stories about these private schools. "Like, with huge swimming pools and green lawns where they play polo on horses and stuff?"

"Yeah. And they let you cheat in all your exams so that you're getting fantastic grades that reflect how good the school is, and if you say one word about not liking it there they lock you in a cupboard until you agree to say that the school is the best school in the country and everyone should pay huge amounts of money to send their kids there." Ripper was having fun making all this stuff up. He was having trouble to stop himself from laughing at Liam's face. He knew that the next day at school, Liam would be shocking everyone in the playground with tales of how there are schools that force you to pretend everything is wonderful but really they hit you if you get a single question wrong and the teachers are nasty and cruel.

Poor kids. Poor, gullible little kids.

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**I apologise if I offended anyone who attends a private school. This was not my opinion on private schools, it was Ripper and Liam's. Personally I wish I had enough money to go there but my family is skint. Or if I offended any Geordies. I love your accents, that's why I had to put it in there. Little Britain – if you've never seen it, watch it. I don't know if you have it in America but basically it takes the piss out of British people. It's funny. I'm so sorry it took so long to update. **


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